


A Miracle in the Whispering Forest

by bardofmnemosyne (jadedmusings)



Series: Savitry [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Death Knight sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-22
Updated: 2011-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedmusings/pseuds/bardofmnemosyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Savitry shares the secret of the Whispering Forest with her husband, Andor, and she tries to remember what it was to live and to love him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Miracle in the Whispering Forest

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me after reading about and witnessing this ["secret" event on another toon](http://wow.joystiq.com/2011/07/19/whats-happening-in-the-whispering-forest/). It's curious something like this happens in a place of death and plague, and I felt it had the potential for romance.
> 
> Savitry is a Death Knight, so caution to anyone not okay with the sexualization of the undead.

Andor Duskmoon had no business tromping through Tirisfal Glades. Then again, anything was better than Undercity. At least here he had the open air to breathe and not the constant stench of rotting flesh and decay. He only wished his companion was given to more conversation.

“Do you need to rest?” The woman he’d followed here, the woman he’d chase the whole of Azeroth and Outland to find, turned to look at him between the narrow slit of her horned helm. In life her voice had been like a song to him, in death it was a biting winter wind in his ear.

And yet he loved her still.

“I can go a bit longer, though soon I might have to think of food. I would hunt, but there’s no game here I’d wager isn’t tainted by Blight.”

“Agreed,” she said and then pointed northward. “There’s a lake not far from our destination. We ought to be able to find fresh fish for you.”

Andor nodded and wiped the sweat away from his brow. “What about you? Are you doing any better?”

“Yes. The hunt eases the pain.” Her head turned away so that she was looking to the side. He couldn’t see her face, but he had the impression he’d somehow shamed her. “You did not have to come.”

“Yes, I did.” He stepped closer to her, almost reaching out to take one of her gauntleted hands but thinking better of it when he saw her grip tighten on the hilt of her sword. He bit his lower lip and swallowed. “Savitry, what happened in Silvermoon—“

“Wasn’t your fault,” she interrupted and turned away to resume walking.

He weighed the option of arguing with her or letting it drop. Deciding the latter was the better choice for now, he followed. “Where are we going?”

“The Whispering Forest.”

“And what’s there?”

“You will see, but first we fish.” Her voice was still hollow, yet Andor thought these words held a hint of teasing, a glimpse of the Savitry he remembered. In spite of himself, he smiled.

***

In the middle of the Whispering Forest they stumbled upon a ring of mushrooms. Savitry had them set up camp within sight of the strange circle and then showed Andor where to fish while she ventured off to clean her blade and gather wood for a fire.

The sun had dipped behind the trees when Andor returned to camp a successful fisherman with two large catfish hanging from a string. He paused at the edge of the small clearing, his breath catching in his throat when he saw Savitry seated in front of the campfire, its light illuminating her form. She’d removed her mail, laying it neatly to the side though she kept her sword within easy reach, the runes along the blade faintly glowing with power. Knee-high black boots covered the lower half of her black breeches and a faded red shirt with an open collar completed the outfit. The cloth contrasted sharply with her almost colorless skin, but Andor still found beauty in her. Her white hair was held back in a bun at the back of her head. Once it had been auburn and he remembered what it was to run his fingers through its soft strands as he kissed her. A breeze moved through the area and pushed aside part of the shirt and something sparkled in the light of the flames, a blue jewel he recognized at once.

“I thought you’d lost that,” he gestured to the necklace as he took a seat on the other side of the campfire to clean the fish.

“I nearly did. It was recovered and returned to me by the forsaken in Ebon Hold.” With a stick she poked at the fire and added some small branches to the logs.

“Do you remember anything else about it?”

Savitry wrapped her slender fingers around the sapphire, her eyes of cold flame considering Andor. “It was a symbol of affection given to me by someone.” She cocked her head. “You gave it to me.”

“Before we were married,” he nodded. “You do remember.”

“Not precisely.” She shook her head. “I only have the knowledge you gave it to me, but the memories of that event are lost to me.”

“Well and truly lost, or do you think they might yet return to you?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, tried to hide the pain of knowing his wife might have died without actually dying. The sudden sag in Savitry’s shoulders and the way she bowed her head told him he failed.

“Andor…”

“How much do you remember? Tell me, please. I have to know how much of a fool I am to keep hoping you’ll look at me as more than a stranger.” The sudden tightness in his throat forced him to swallow.

Savitry didn’t respond her attention focused on the ring of mushrooms. “Look,” was all she said.

Angry at her dismissal, he followed her gaze and immediately forgot his next words. The mushrooms were glowing, pulsing with soft blue light while what appeared to be faerie dragons floated about the outside of the circle.

“When did they arrive?”

Savitry pressed a finger to her lips to shush him. “Just watch.” Andor obeyed.

For several minutes the dragons continued flying about in random patterns while the light from the mushrooms gradually grew brighter, the pulsing like that of the steady beat of a heart. Then, as if given a silent signal, the dragons each flew to a spot just outside the circle at equal distances from one another and they began to sing. Quiet music drifted through the still forest as the dragons sent golden ribbons of magic to the center of the circle where they met and went skyward. The song grew louder and the whole clearing was alight with their magic and a sense of peace filled the empty void left by the night.

Enraptured by the sight, Andor failed to notice the Tirisfal stags and Blight-infected does and fawns wandering into the area to watch the show. Nor did he notice Savitry had moved to kneel next to him until she reached for his hand. Their fingers entwined and they sat in silence until the song ended, the dragons and deer disappearing back into the forest.

“Until I received your letter, I only knew the mindless servitude to the Lich King and then the confusion of what to do now that I was free.” Her cadence was slow, careful seemingly afraid of her ability to maintain her composure. “And the night I read your letter, I dreamed for the first time in ages. I dreamed of my life before the Scourge, my life with you, and I hated it.”

Andor turned to face her in time to see a red tear fall from her eye and spill onto her cheek. “Savitry,” he whispered and reached up to wipe away the tear with his thumb only to have her bring up her hand to stop him.

“Let me finish, please.” She waited for him to lower his hand and continued. “I didn’t want to remember because it forced me to recognize how empty I was, how incomplete my existence has become. How much I miss you despite the total absence of memories. It’s like what I feel when I look upon the Dead Scar. I know it was teeming with life once, but all I can see and experience now is the destruction left behind.”

Andor squeezed the hand still in his and watched two more red tears roll over the curve of her face down to her jawline. “I’m sorry I’ve pushed so hard, especially after what happened in Silvermoon. I guess I hoped this would be a simple matter of reminding you who you were in life.” He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. “Regardless of what does or doesn’t happen, I will always love you, Savitry. In life and in death.”

She didn’t answer him at first, a crease forming in her otherwise smooth brow. After a span of heartbeats she asked, “Why did you give me the necklace?”

“It was an engagement gift. You’d insisted I not give you anything after you accepted my proposal, but I’d noticed you always stopped by the Bazaar to take a look at this necklace and were so disappointed the day we went there and it was gone.” He smiled at the memory. “And when I dangled it in front of you and asked how it might look around your neck…well, I swore I’d forever do my best to give you reasons to smile like that.”

“Did we make love?”

“Pardon?”

Again, she looked to the side, shifting on her knees. “After you gave it to me, did we make love?”

Andor cleared his throat and felt warmth fill his cheeks. “Well, not right there in the Bazaar, of course, but afterward, yes. We made love. You never removed the necklace.”

The muscles of Savitry’s throat moved as she swallowed. She still wouldn’t meet Andor’s gaze. “Would you consider making love to me as I am now?”

“Yes,” he answered at once.

She looked to him then, disbelief in her eyes. “It would not be as it was before.”

“I don’t care. The body might be different, but it’s still you inside.” He cupped her cheek in his palm, his thumb wiping away the remnants of one of her bloody tears.

“I wanted to share this with you,” she gestured to the circle even as she pressed her face into his hand. “I stumbled upon it a few weeks ago and the song and the music, they made me _feel_. My memories are gone, but I thought if I brought you here I would feel again and you and I…we could make new memories.” Her lower lip trembled and her voice cracked. “I can’t promise anything. The emotions ebb and flow like the tide, and there are moments I think they’ll never return. Tomorrow I might not feel anything for you, but here and now I do.”

Andor’s answer was a kiss. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his hand moving back to gently remove the pins holding her hair up. With a tug, the long locks fell, cascading over her shoulders in white waves. Their lips parted and for the first time in nearly a decade, he tasted his wife and was both surprised and overjoyed to find it was just as he remembered. Her skin was cooler than his, but there was still warmth there and as the kiss deepened and his body moved closer to hers, the warmth increased.

Eventually they had to pause for breath and Savitry said, “We should get out the furs. The ground isn’t comfortable.”

“I’ll do it.” Andor kissed her cheek and moved away to find his travel pack. When he stumbled onto his fish, he tossed them into the woods figuring he could catch more in the morning. With that done, he set about making a pallet of animal furs big enough for two.

Unbeknownst to him, Savitry had used the time to silently disrobe. Still kneeling on the furs, he turned around to see her standing nude with the campfire providing backlight. Unable to help himself, his body responded to the sight of her flesh and the thought he would soon be able to touch and feel it pressed to his.

His eyes drank her in, slowly traveling from her face and down the expanse of her body. Runes were carved into both arms at the biceps, though they were dark and seemed dormant for the moment. At her waist he paused to study the thick horizontal scar below her navel. It seemed to nearly bisect her body, and with horror he realized it was the wound that ended her life. Grief and anguish made his head swim as he tried not to think of how long she’d been forced to lie on the battlefield with her insides spilling out of her while she waited life to fade away. He prayed he was wrong and she’d died instantly, or that the memories of her death were lost to her.

Something must have shown on his face because she placed her hands on her stomach and traced the length of the scar. “It seems cruel that I cannot remember my childhood or our love, but I know every detail of the last moments of my life.”

Andor held a hand out to her, encouraging her to approach him and kissing her navel when she was finally in reach. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he murmured against the skin before tugging gently on her arm to urge her to lie next to him.

She settled onto her back and turned her head to face him. “I don’t know if this will work, Andor.”

“Shh,” he kissed her forehead, her cheek, and then her lips. “We won’t know until we try,” he whispered, “and the night is still young.” He took his time allowing his lips to make a trail from her mouth to her chin and down to her throat. The pulse in her neck was faint and slow, but it was there and he passed his tongue over it, nibbling and nipping at the skin as he moved lower and lower until he reached the top swell of her right breast. He paused to smile at the presence of the jewel resting on her chest and moved a hand up to cup his fingers under her left breast while he kissed the outer curve of the other.

At first nothing seemed to happen, but as his lips brushed over her nipple he saw the skin pulling tighter, the sensitive flesh swelling to hardness. It was as though her body had also forgotten what it was to love and was slowly remembering how to respond to his touch. He let go and used his fingertip to draw a shrinking spiral around her areola ending at the tip of her nipple. She sighed, her eyes closing when he brought his thumb and forefinger together to gently pinch her. To his delight a tiny moan escaped her mouth and he took the opportunity to wrap his lips around her nipple, flicking his tongue over the tip and drawing out a louder moan.

He tugged, licked, and sucked while enjoying the subtle sounds of pleasure and the occasional shuddering sigh. The skin warmed more under his mouth and hand, and her fingers pushed through the short strands of his brown hair. He rolled onto his knees, straddling her thighs to hover over her as he moved his mouth to her other breasts. With his hands he massaged and teased, the long years of her absence from his bed leaving his mind.

When she began to writhe and move her hips under him, he left her breasts and made another trail of kisses down the center of her stomach, pausing beneath her navel to lightly run his fingers over the thick scar. He kissed it too, shifting to place one knee between her legs and then the other. She bent them and opened them wider offering him a glimpse of her sex.

Starting at the crook of one knee, he nibbled and kissed the length of Savitry’s inner thigh. He lowered his body onto his stomach, his shoulders resting under the backs of her thighs. The heat of his breath caressed her sex moments before his lips did. Her breath hitched and her body became tense and motionless until his tongue hesitantly pushed forward and took his first taste of her. They moaned in unison, Savitry’s back arching once Andor’s tongue found her center and entered her. Her arousal coated his tongue, a sweet and musky blend of scent and flavor he had never been able to forget and never thought he’d experience again.

He took his time, teasing her by removing his tongue and dragging it upward to sweep a wide circle around the most sensitive part of her without actually touching it. The third time he did this, she whimpered and raised her hips from the fur, her hands moving out to her sides and gripping the blankets in her fists. He thrust his tongue inside her once more, felt the muscles pull tight around it before he left her again to finally flick the tip of over the bundle of nerves that was so hard amidst the soft skin of her sex.

Savitry cried out and raised her hips again, rocking them upward when his lips drew her clit between them to gently suck. He was careful not to be too rough, only gentle stimulation would ever suffice for this intimate act for her. Death may have stolen her memories and hardened her personality, but in this she was still the same, still the woman whose pleading cries filled his ears as she had so many years ago.

Thighs squeezed his head, trapping his long ears between them and he steeled himself against her bucking hips, keeping his lips and tongue on her to draw out her pleasure until with a panting yelp she told him it was too much. He tasted her again, swirling his tongue around her before she collapsed back to the furs, her chest heaving with a labored breath.

Andor settled back on his heels and enjoyed the sight of her resplendent in her afterglow while he pulled his shirt over his head and began fumbling with the buttons of his breeches. Slender fingers joined his and assisted him in unfastening the thick cloth, relief flooding him when his length was freed from the tight confines. Reluctantly he had to move back to kick off his boots and shuffle out of his pants in a manner he knew was far less graceful and poetic than her earlier more subtle undressing.

She sat up to watch him, her otherworldly eyes doing what his had done to her. They followed the outline of his broad shoulders, down the expanse of his chest and stomach, only to stop at his erection. With enviable grace and stealth she rolled to her knees and went to him, remaining eye level with his cock as her hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking from base to tip.

Andor gasped softly, a glistening drop of clear fluid beading at the tip of his length. “Ah, Savitry, don’t.”

She looked up at him, her eyebrows pushing together in confusion. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s just that,” he paused as a tremor of pleasure jolted through him. When he could talk again, his voice was hoarse and strained. “It’s just that I’m rather…stimulated at the moment.”

Gesturing to the furs, she let go of him and told him, “Lie down.”

Andor complied and wondered if he was going to come only from the feel of her thigh brushing against his. They shared a kiss and her fingernails made invisible patterns over his chest, teasing his nipples to hardness. She returned the same treatment she’d received at his hands, her lip, tongue, and teeth teasing and caressing the skin of his neck, shoulders and upper chest. The difference came when she swiftly moved to straddle his waist, raising her hips as she gripped his cock to guide him to her entrance.

His protest died in his throat to be replaced with a loud groan that echoed off the nearby trees. Her softness enveloped him, continuing until her body settled against his. An involuntary flex of his cock made her moan and caused him to shudder with pleasure. The tips of his fingers dug into her hips to hold her still, though he needn’t have bothered. She knew how close he was to release and she seemed to both understand his desire to hold off for as long as possible and want the same thing.

Andor allowed his gaze to travel up her body, marveling at the way the sapphire nestled provocatively between her breasts. Aside from her eyes and complexion, it was a mirror image to the day he had given her the necklace and he allowed himself to focus on her, on the feel of being inside of her. The knowledge of how long it had been, of what she had become faded into the background of his mind as she bent down to kiss him and rolled her hips forward. The sensation of her muscles gliding around him nearly sent him tumbling over the edge, but he held on to her hips, guiding them in slow, small circles. It was a pleasurable torture for him and for her, if the moans vibrating against his lips were any indication.

He continued to direct her movements, pleased that she didn’t fight him and went where he guided her. She pulled away from the kiss and leaned back, her spine bowed and her chest thrusting outward. He watched her, impossibly flexible as she placed her hands behind her and braced against the ground, her hips slowly grinding with him still deep inside her.

Groaning he traced a heated trail over her lower abdomen and dipped his fingers to touch the top of her sex. He moved further down until he felt the small bit of flesh that caused her to cry out when he brushed against it. There was no more time to savor the moment as he felt himself swelling inside of her, no time for the gentle ministrations he’d given her moments before.

Savitry’s cries pierced the night a second time, her body trembling as she spasmed around him. Andor watched her hips continue to move, his mind becoming a jumble of thoughts and emotions as he joined her. His awareness narrowed to include only the feel of his pleasure spilling into her, each throb of his cock forcing his hips to jerk upward. Blood roared in his ears, nearly deafening him to everything but his wife’s voice.

When the world righted itself, Savitry fell forward to lie atop him. Her cheek nuzzled against his chest and Andor kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her torso.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“And I you, Andor.” She sighed contentedly. “My husband.”

***

They made love again that night, and before the sun rose, Savitry tasted him for the first time since the tragic day. Exhausted, they fell asleep in one another’s arms until the sun rode high in the sky and they were forced to obey the respective needs of their bodies.

“It may never happen again,” Savitry said after Andor returned from fishing.

“And if it doesn’t, I’ll still have new memories and the knowledge that my wife is still here.” He turned the makeshift spit over the fire.

“I can feel the heat leaving my body and the numbness returning.” She sighed and looked over at the circle of mushrooms.

“Then I’ll simply wait until it returns.” He slid closer to her and grabbed hold of her hand. “I swore to love you for as long as _I_ drew breath, and I will hold to that. No one will ever replace you.”

One last kiss was all Andor needed to keep his hope there would be more miraculous nights with his wife.


End file.
